


In Which Jean and Marco Fall Head Over Heels For Each Other

by Songbird321



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dorks, First Meeting, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbird321/pseuds/Songbird321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots based on your favorite dorks: Jean and Marco. From falling in love to falling apart, from holding hands to holding each other together, Marco will always be with Jean, and Jean will never let Marco go. Prompts written for Jeanmarco Week 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> This first piece was written for Jeanmarco week 2015 on tumblr for the prompt Begin Again. It's basically the story of two nerds falling in love... like most of my other Jeanmarco works. I'll be adding my other pieces as the week goes on!
> 
> Please enjoy!

“’Ten little soldier boys going out to dine; one choked his little self then there were nine.’”

Jean flinched, blinking rapidly up at the young man who’d take a seat next to him on the bus three stops ago. Jean stared at the brunette for the first time, realizing he couldn’t have been much older than himself. There was a smile on his cheerful, freckled face as the stranger nodded at the book in Jean’s hands. “That’s uh, from the poem that book is based on.”

“Yeah,” Jean said offhandedly, glancing down at the cover of And Then There Were None for just a second before returning his gaze to the deep brown eyes of the stranger. “Have you read it?”

“A few months ago,” the young man nodded. “It’s good isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah,” Jean replied. “Are you an Agatha Christie fan?”

“Not really,” the brunette shrugged. “I’m not really a fan of any particular author. I just like to read in general. I’ll take anything from mysteries to romance, to the classics, to dystopian literature… you name it, I’ll read it. How about you?”

“I’m not much of a Christie fan either,” Jean answered, sliding his book mark in place just in case. “A friend recommended this one. Thought I’d try it out.”

“And you like it?” the brunette inquired. 

“I love it,” Jean said in response.

“Can I see it? That’s a cool looking cover,” the stranger asked. Jean nodded and handed over the book. The brunette began to examine it, looking over both covers, the inside of the sleeves, and flipping through the pages. Jean looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers together as the young man fiddled with his book. 

“I’m pretty into books too,” the sandy haired boy ventured to keep the conversation going.

“Really? You got a favorite?” the young man asked, cocking his head to the side curiously. Jean’s lips quirked up at how cute such a simple motion looked on this guy. 

“I’m a sucker for Harry Potter,” the sandy haired boy replied. The brunette’s eyes widened. Jean couldn’t stop a smile from breaking on his lips at such a reaction. “You too?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” the freckled man said enthusiastically, a self conscious hand flying to his mouth afterwards as he cast nervous eyes around the bus to make sure his volume level hadn’t disturbed anyone. After confirming he wasn’t a bother, he turned back to Jean and said, in a much quieter tone, “I’ve read them all through four times, went to all the midnight book premiers, and may or may not have a wand and robe in my closet.” 

Jean shook his head. “Hey, don’t be ashamed. I might have the same thing in my closet.”

“What house are you?” the brunette asked.

“Slytherin. You?” 

“Hufflepuff.”

Jean gasped. “I don’t know if we can talk anymore.”

“Hey! Hufflepuffs aren’t that bad!” the brunette protested. “We’re loyal and kind and…”

“Particularly good finders?” Jean suggested, leaning back against the window with a curious expression. He fought to keep a straight face at the flash of uncontained glee in the stranger’s face. 

“You’ve seen AVPM?” he questioned hopefully. 

“Dude, I have the whole soundtrack on my phone,” Jean responded. “The sequel too.” 

“Oh my gosh,” the brunette sighed, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. Jean laughed at the shear dorky adorableness of the young man’s every movement. “Harry Potter.”

“Bringing people together since 1997,” Jean said. “Actually, my uh… my ex was really into Harry Potter, too.” The brunette’s eyebrows knit together curiously. Jean waved his hand. “It’s fine. We broke up a year ago. I’m over it now.”

The young man nodded. “Good. I know how it can hurt. I just got broken up with four months ago.” Jean’s eyes widened. Who could break up with such an adorable person? He’d known the guy for maybe five minutes, didn’t even know his name and Jean would definitely consider him a friend. 

His confusion earned him a chuckled from his companion. “Don’t worry, I’m over it too. We weren’t together that long, anyway. We’re both stronger for it.”

Jean nodded. “What was her name?”

“Thomas.”

Jean felt his heart stop. The brunette smiled shyly before asking, “What about you? What was your girl’s name?”

“Armin,” Jean answered just as plainly as his companion. The stranger nodded simply, the slightest blush coloring his face. 

Jean wasn’t sure if what he felt with embarrassment at making assumptions, or nerves at being near such a cute potential boyfriend candidate. Wait, when had he started thinking like that? They had quite literally just met. There was no way, no possible way, that he and this boy would ever be together. He’d probably never see him again. Jean then looked out the window to escape his thoughts and noticed that his stop was next. In a flash of panic, the sandy haired boy pushed the button and shoved his book away in his bag. “Hey, sorry, but my stop’s next. It was real nice talking to you, uh…”

“Oh my gosh, I never even told you my name!” the brunette gasped, his freckled cheeks blushing a light red. “Marco. Marco Bodt.”

“It was real nice talking to you Marco,” Jean finished. “And uh, my name’s Jean Kisrchtein by the way.”

“It was nice meeting you Jean,” Marco smiled, standing up to let the sandy haired boy pass. Jean nodded to him before moving towards the door and slipping out onto the street. He waved back at Marco as the bus drove on down the street, carrying with it the first opportunity he’d been given for anything close to romance in a year. 

Sighing, Jean sat down on the bench and pulled his book back out, prepared to wait for his next bus. When he got to the marked page, a folded piece of notebook paper fluttered out. Curious, Jean picked up the paper and read the neat handwritten words: 

Hey, I’ve been watching you from a few seats over for the past few stops and can’t get over how attractive you are. Sorry that’s creepy, but the cute little smile on your face as you flipped the pages of this book were the push I needed to get over my shyness/weirdness and come talk to you. So, if you don’t think I’m too much of a creep, want to go get smoothies or coffee or something sometime? I’m sure we’ll find something to talk about after I come sit close enough to you to slip this into your book without you noticing. Wow, that’s creepy. I’m going to just stop now. Let me know about meeting again, if you aren’t too creeped out. Sincerely, Marco

A phone number was scrawled under the note. Jean smiled and pulled out his phone, immediately writing a text to the given number and sending it before nerves could get the better of him. 

Jean: You free Friday?

He felt his heart pound against his ribcage as he awaited a response. He tapped his foot, fidgeted with the phone in his hands, ran his fingers through his hair, anything to calm the swelling tide of jittery nerves coursing through him. He knew he’d done the right thing, right? No one had made him feel so calm, so happy, so nervous since…  
The phone vibrated. Jean quickly looked at the screen. 

Marco: Took you long enough. ;) Friday sounds great. I’m free after 6. 

Jean smiled. 

Jean: Smoothies at 7? As long as you promise to stop being so creepy. ;)

Marco: Haha, I solemnly swear to stop being creepy! 7 sounds great!

The nerves stopped jittering and Jean felt a smile break on his face. 

Jean: Mischief managed ;)


	2. Electric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt 'Electric,' a short vignette of the sparks flying between two certain lovebirds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Hunter Hayes' song 'Light Me Up'

“I don’t really like fireworks,” Marco commented offhandedly as he stared up at the night sky, his legs spread before him and his toes clicking together gently. 

“Really?” Jean asked, settling down on the blanket next to his boyfriend. “You strike me as the kind of guy who’d love fireworks above all else.”

“Why?” Marco asked with a laugh. 

Jean shrugged. “You’re always so sunny and bright and happy. I could be having a bad day and then BANG!” He clapped his hands and mimicked an explosion. “In comes Marco to make everything better.” 

The freckled brunette laughed, shaking his head. “Well, just because I apparently act like a firework doesn’t mean I like them.”

“Guess not,” Jean sighed, lying back with his hands clasped behind his head. Marco lay back too, staring up at the sky. The sun had just set, the sky a deep purple that would soon darken to a cool midnight blue. A few stars began to wink through the atmosphere. Although he knew they were surrounded by their friends on blankets similar to theirs, Marco suddenly felt very small, as if it were only he, Jean, and their blanket left in the world. 

“Who was I before I met you?” Marco asked offhandedly.

Jean shrugged. “Probably someone else’s sunshine.”

Marco pursed his lips and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Jean asked. “Marco, you’re like everyone’s sunshine.”

Marco shook his head again. “No. Jean, I physically couldn’t have been anyone else’s sunshine. Because I needed you to turn me on.” The blush that lit up Jean’s face sent a sudden rush of heat pulsing through Marco’s face. “N-not like that! I mean, you just…” He sighed, all the words forming a traffic jam in his brain, making it too hard to think. “You light me up.”

“How?” Jean asked, sitting up and turned inquisitive hazel eyes on the brunette. 

Marco shrugged. “You just… be yourself, I guess. Everything about you just kind of…” he smiled, “makes me happy. And makes me want to smile and shine and sparkle for you.” He looked away, down at the grass and began to absently twirl his fingers through the soft, green blades. “It’s like, I was alright before. Then we met. And a switch came on; you turned it on. And then everything was different.”

He risked looking at Jean again to find those hazel eyes still trained on him, wide with surprise. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Marco asked gently. “Am I being weird?”

“No,” Jean shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Marco. “It’s just… I guess I don’t understand.”

Marco smiled. “I don’t understand it either. All I know is that whenever you’re around, I can’t stop smiling.” He looked away again. Looking at Jean distracted him too much, and if he wanted to get the words out, he needed to look away. “Heck, I can’t wipe this stupid smile off my face just thinking about you. And when you call me or sit next to me or hug me or hold my hand I just… I don’t know, Jean. Maybe magic is real. Maybe that’s what magic is.”

“So you feel the sparks too then?” the sandy haired boy asked quietly, gazing at the ground with the smallest of smiles on his lips. 

“Yeah,” Marco nodded. “Every single time.”

Jean suddenly lifted his eyes to Marco again, the movement so sudden that the brunette’s eyes snapped back into focus on the other boy. There was a steely determination in his eyes, hiding behind a glimmering hope and a gleam of courage. 

“Would you like to see if we can make them glow in the dark?” Jean asked, his voice quiet.

Marco answered by leaning forward into Jean’s waiting lips, feeling fearless and reckless and too gosh darn happy to let this chance slip by. His hand wound around Jean’s neck, pulling the other boy closer to him. He almost shuddered as Jean’s cold palms rested against his cheeks, holding him as if Marco would try to run. The heart running miles a minute in his chest was the only running Marco’s preoccupied brain could even conceive of at the moment. 

All he knew was the feel of Jean’s lips crashing against his. All he needed was the unspoken ‘I love you’ radiating from his lover’s fingertips. All he wanted was this moment to last forever. 

Everything evaporated when Marco felt something soft collide against his head. He pulled back from Jean to find a crumpled piece of paper lying next to his knees. 

“Get a room!” Eren called from the blanket behind them where he was sitting with Armin tucked neatly against his side with Eren’s arm slung over his shoulder. “And sorry Marco, I was aiming for Jean.” 

“You first, Jaeger!” Jean retorted. “Sorry Armin, no offense to you of course.”

“Why don’t you stop fighting and just make out already?” Ymir asked from a few blankets over. 

“Cause Krischtein’s lips are too busy punching Bodt in the face,” Connie replied with what they assumed was a cheeky grin at his clever comment. Although his back was to them, Marco could see Sasha patting Connie’s shoulder patronizingly as the boy continued, “What? That was a good one!”

Jean clicked his tongue and shook his head, turning back to Marco. “Go back to what you were saying about me lighting up your life.”

Marco laughed. “Why?”

The smile on Jean’s lips was enough to make Marco’s heart race again. “Cause I need you to ‘turn me on’ again so we can finish what we started before we were so rudely interrupted.” 

“Why don’t we just skip to the good part?” Marco asked impatiently with a laugh. 

“Fine by me,” Jean shrugged. “Light me up, babe.” 

The first firework exploded overhead, casting an illumination of gold on the field. Neither Jean nor Marco noticed as the colors lit up the sky, ignoring the explosions ricocheting through the field. All they needed were the sparks flying between their lips, the sweet sensation of electricity running between each kiss.


	3. Dream On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean and Marco are young dads who just want to get some sleep. For the prompt Dream On.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in a modern au I've recently crafted in which 104th couples all have little kids. In this particular installment, Nicholas is 5, Hannah is 3, and Noah is 10 months.

“Dad?” 

Jean peeled his eyes open to gaze blearily at the shadowed silhouette of one of his children standing next to his side of the bed, (it was too dark to tell which one it was and he was too sleepy to identify them by voice.) 

“Yeah. What is it?” the man asked, rubbing absently at his eyes. The child came closer, leaning against the bed. 

“I had a scary dream.” Jean felt his heart melt a little. The scared little voice belonged to Hannah. 

“Do you want to sleep with us?” he asked. He saw the shadow bob its head. “Okay,” Jean said, moving to the side so the little girl could hop up next to him. He was careful to avoid disturbing Marco as much as he could as Hannah climbed up on the bed and snuggled close to his chest. Jean pulled the covers back over them both. “What was your dream about?”

“The pumpkin man,” Hannah answered in a quiet voice, fiddling idly with her fingers. Jean frowned, stroking her short, blonde hair soothingly. 

“Was he chasing you again?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Me and Nick,” Hannah replied. “The hallway just kept on going forever and ever and he kept getting closer and closer.”

“Well, you know what I always tell you, right?” Jean asked in response. 

“That the pumpkin faced man is scared of you and Daddy,” Hannah said. “And you can beat him up.”

“That’s right,” Jean said with a nod. “So don’t you worry about him anymore, okay? Just try to get some sleep.”

“Okay,” the littler girl whispered. She cuddled closer to Jean, wrapping her little arms around him. “I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Jean mumbled, giving her hair one last ruffle before pulling her close and closing his eyes. He waited to hear Hannah’s breathing level off before he left himself slip back to sleep. 

About twenty minutes after Jean was lost to sleep again, Marco felt a tap on his shoulder. The brunette opened his eyes to see a flash of lightning illuminate the room through the breaks in the blinds, a small, child-like figure outlined against the light. 

“Nick?” Marco questioned the darkness. He sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Jean. “What’s up, buddy?”

“The rain woke me up,” the little boy said. He sounded upset, like he’d been crying. “And Hannah’s not in her room?”

“She’s not?” Marco asked sleepily, rubbing quickly at his eyes. “Why were you in her room?”

“Cause I was scared the storm would scare her,” Nick replied. Marco smiled to himself at how sweet his oldest son was as a roll of thunder rumbled loud enough to shake the house a little. Nick and Marco heard a soft gasp as Hannah sat up from where she’d been cuddled next to Jean. “Hannah?”

“Nick?” the little girl asked the darkness. “Is that you?”

“Hannah, why are you in here?” Nick asked in surprise. 

“Cause I had a bad dream,” she answered, sounding embarrassed. “Is it raining?”

“Yes,” Marco answered, listening to the rain beating against the window. “It must’ve just started. Your brother came in here because he went to your room to see if you were okay and you weren’t there so he was worried.”

Hannah gasped. “I’m sorry, Nick!”

“It’s okay,” the little boy replied with a shrug perfectly timed with another flash of lightening. Hannah hid her face in Jean’s shoulder with a scared gasp, effectively waking the man up again.

“What’s with all the racket?” Jean asked groggily. “Some people are trying to sleep here.” 

“Oh, Dad!” Hannah said jokingly, lightly hitting his side. Thunder rumbled again and she quickly huddled closer to the man’s side. “Dad!”

“It’s okay,” Jean said in response, wrapping an arm around his daughter. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Whose all in here?” 

“Everyone but Noah,” Nick answered. Jean looked at Marco, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. 

“Marco…”

“I’ll go check on him,” the brunette said without being asked, throwing back the covers and moving to the door. “Even though it’s technically your turn…”

“Thank you,” Jean called after him. For the past week, their ten-month-old had been giving them hell at night, refusing to stay asleep for more than a few hours. Marco said it was because his teeth were growing in. Either way, sleep had been rare, and the two had worked out a schedule as to who would sacrifice their sleep each night. And for as much as Jean loved his husband, he had to admit he didn’t feel all that bad about skipping his turn in favor of snuggling with their more rational children. 

As soon as Marco was gone, Nick scrambled up on the bed, kneeling next to Jean and gently stroking Hannah’s back. 

“It’s okay, Nannah, the lightning won’t hurt you,” the five-year-old said in his most comforting voice. 

“Um-hm,” Hannah nodded, not looking up from where she’d jammed her face into Jean’s side. 

“That’s very nice of you taking care of your sister, Nicholas,” Jean said with a smile he knew the boy couldn’t see very well. He barely saw Nick smile back.

“Looks like we’ve got a full house tonight,” Marco said as he came back into the room. By his outline in the dark, Jean could tell he was holding Noah. The brunette placed the baby on the bed before sliding back under the covers. Noah immediately crawled into his arms, laying his head little head on Marco’s shoulder. “Everyone snuggle together, like a big group hug.”

“Ew,” Nick said jokingly. “You guys have cooties!”

“Oh, don’t give me any of that, mister,” Jean responded, pulling his oldest son towards him in a tight hug with the arm that wasn’t holding Hannah. Nick giggled, trying to squirm away. “I don’t know what they’re teaching you in that kindergarten of yours, but you should know by now that cooties are not contagious.”

“Yes they are! That’s what Jeremy said,” Nick insisted. 

“Jeremy Springer?” Jean questioned. 

“Yeah,” Nick answered. 

“Don’t believe everything Jeremy Springer tells you,” the man replied. “That kid’s got cooties.” 

“No he doesn’t!” Nick said. “Jeremy says only girls and adults have cooties! And I like him; he’s my best friend!”

“Me too,” Hannah added, peeking out from Jean’s shoulder. “He’s funny.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean rolled his eyes. “We can talk more in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Marco chimed in around a yawn. “I think it’s bed time for the Bodt-Kirschtein family.” 

“Agreed,” Jean replied. “If you kids want to stay in here, you’ve got to play by the rules. And it’s lights out after two am.”

“But the lights are already out,” Nick pointed out. 

“It’s an expression, Mr. Snarky Pants,” Marco replied jokingly. “It means 2 am is too late for you yahoos to still be up.”

“Yahoos?” Hannah questioned. 

“That’s another word for silly kids,” Jean answered around a yawn. “Silly kids who need to get some sleep.” 

“I think you’re silly,” Hannah said, poking Jean’s nose lightly. The man poked the little’s girl’s nose right back. 

“Sleep,” he said. Hannah giggled before curling up against Jean’s side. “You too, mister,” he said to Nick. 

“Okay,” the five-year-old consented sprawling out between Jean and Marco. “I love you.”

“Love you too, bud,” Marco replied.

“Even if you have cooties,” Nick giggled.

“Hey, you tell Jeremy that family doesn’t count,” Jean said in response, ruffling Nick’s hair. “Now goodnight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Bed bugs?” Hannah asked in a panicked voice.

“Just another expression!” Marco corrected quickly.

“Cooties! Cooties are the bed bugs!” Nick exclaimed. 

“That’s it! I’m sleeping on the couch!” Jean declared.


	4. Tearstained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco doesn't want to burden anyone with his troubles, but there's no way Jean would ever let him go it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt Tearstained, this little installment takes place in the canon verse during their trainee days.

Jean walked out onto the porch, pausing when he saw a familiar figure sitting on the steps, facing the compound. 

“Marco?” 

The brunette’s figure stiffened, spine straitening as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been. “Jean?” he questioned. He didn’t turn around. 

“What are you doing out here?” the sandy haired boy asked curiously, glancing around at the empty porch. 

“Oh, you know. Just getting some air,” Marco answered. He laughed, the sound forced and fake and enough to tip Jean over the edge. With one eyebrow arched suspiciously, he stepped forward till he stood over the brunette. 

“Are you crying?” Jean asked, watching as Marco tried in vain to swipe away the tears in his eyes. 

“No,” the freckled boy said, voice breaking unconvincingly. 

Jean sat down next to him on the step, the wood creaking under him. The other boy didn’t move, not looking at his companion as he sniffled and swiped his sleeve across his face. But Jean didn’t need Marco to turn to see the red tear tracks stained on his cheeks. The sight worried him. “Marco, what’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing,” Marco replied, shaking his head. He swiped his thumb at his right eye again. 

“Don’t give me that crap. You’re clearly upset. What is it?” Jean insisted. Marco took a breath, jamming the heels of his hands into his eyes, but didn’t say anything. After one too many moments of silence. Jean pressed his lips together and chose a new approach. “Is someone picking on you?”

“No.”

“Are you stressed about exams?”

“No.”

“Have you seen Eren’s face too many times today?”

“Jean,” Marco chastised as he brought his hands away from his face and gave the other boy as suffering a look as he could manage with glassy, red rimmed eyes. 

“What? That could be a legitimate reason,” Jean said innocently. “And if it’s not Eren, then tell me what’s upsetting you?”

Marco sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I uh… I’m just really missing home.” Jean stayed quiet watching as Marco bit his lip, composing his next words. “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen them, my family. And I mean, I write to them regularly, so I know what’s going on there but… it’s not the same, you know? I don’t get to see my siblings grow up or my mother and father and… I just miss them and sometimes I…”

The brunette stopped as a fresh wave of tears rose in his eyes. Jean just sat and waited. Marco took a shaking breath. “I feel like I don’t have the right to talk about how much I miss my family when so many of my friends here don’t even have a family to miss.”

“Marco!” Jean exclaimed, taking the brunette’s hand suddenly. “Don’t you dare invalidate your feelings! You have every right to miss your family! And if anyone here says otherwise I’ll kick their ass personally.” 

“Jean,” Marco shook his head with another forced chuckle.

“I’m serious, Marco,” Jean said, squeezing his hands reassuringly. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little homesick. And you shouldn’t feel ashamed for it either. I’m really sorry you feel that way.”

Marco shook his head, offering him a small smile. “Thanks Jean.”

“And you know you can always talk to me about your family, right?” the fair-faired boy said gently. “Cause I still have a family to miss, as you put it, if that’s what’s stopping you from telling the others.”

“Thank you, Jean,” the brunette smiled. “Really.” Jean nodded, rubbing circles into Marco’s hands with his thumbs. The minutes ticked by as the two continued to sit like that in silence, Jean holding Marco’s hands and Marco smiling absently.”

“How long has this been bothering you?” Jean asked. 

“It only got bad this week,” Marco answered, taking a deep breath.

“How long were you crying before I found you?” 

“About half an hour.” The brunette guessed it had to be about that long from how badly his cheeks were burning, raw and puffy. A headache was also starting to pound in the back of his skull. 

“Hey Jean?” 

“Yeah, Marco?”

“Would it be out of place to ask for a hug?”

“Oh my god,” Jean mumbled as he threw his arms around the brunette in answer. “You never have to ask, you dork.” 

A lone tear slipped down Marco’s cheek as he squeezed Jean back. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! And also, if you're liking these works, feel free to look me up on tumblr at princessofthepen. I'm mostly an Attack on Titan blog, but I post a lot of writing on there too! :)


	5. Raindrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco gets a cheesy idea and will make it happen at all costs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short, dialogue heavy piece that I kinda just threw together for the prompt Raindrops. Do enjoy!

Heavy drops of rain splattered against the window. Marco found his focus drawn away from the pages of his book to the sound of the water beating against the glass. 

“Hey Jean?”

“Yes?” the other boy replied from the other end of the living room, as far away from the window as was possible in the small room.

“Want to do something really cliché and cheesy?” Marco asked in response. He looked over, expecting a deadpan look from his boyfriend. He smiled when he got exactly what he expected. 

“What?” Jean questioned. His glasses had begun to slide down his nose. 

“Are you going to say no before I even tell you what it is?” Marco questioned as innocently as he could.

“No. I’ll wait to hear your offer first,” Jean said. 

“Well you’re tone is very off putting…”

“Marco, what are you going to suggest?” Jean cut him off impatiently. 

“Can we dance in the rain?” the brunette asked hopefully. 

“Absolutely not,” Jean shook his head with finality. 

“Why?” Marco asked in a pleading voice. 

“I don’t want to get wet,” Jean argued. 

Marco groaned. “You’re no fun,” he said, placing his book down and moving for the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?” Jean called after him. 

“I don’t know,” Marco replied plainly. 

“Are you mad at me for saying no?” the fair-haired boy asked, sounding mildly worried. 

“No,” Marco sighed dramatically, smiling to himself as he opened the door to the fridge with no real intention of taking anything out. As he’d be expecting, Jean was leaning in the doorway when he closed the fridge door. “I’m not pouting if that’s what you’re expecting. It was just a silly idea.”

“I’ll dance with you now,” Jean replied earnestly. Marco smiled. 

“Really? In the rain?” 

“No. In the kitchen.”

Marco shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get,” he conceded, holding out a hand that Jean accepted. The brunette wrapped his arms around the shorter boy’s waist as Jean’s arms carefully roped around his neck. They didn’t even need music, a silent rhythm carrying them along on soft circles around the tiny kitchen. Marco smiled as Jean let his head rest on the freckled boy’s shoulder, his breath warm against his neck. 

“Hey Jean?”

“Yeah?” the fair-haired boy whispered.

“You know we’re still technically dancing in the rain, right?” Marco grinned. “I mean, we aren’t in it, in it. But it’s raining. And we’re dancing. And it counts.”

“Good,” Jean replied. “Then I don’t have to get wet and you still get your dorky wish granted. Happily ever after.”

“Happily ever after,” Marco repeated as a flash of lighting lit up the sky outside.


	6. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean had only three words for Marco. Three words he never got to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Regrets. This is shorter, and very stream-of-conciousness-esque, so please bear with me. And I think there will be only one more update on this one.

It still stung. Two years later, the words were still burning on his tongue, waiting to be said, given to a beating heart, whispered tenderly into a waiting ear, shouted at the howling wind. The fire still scorched on his lips; nothing seemed to be able to quell the flames. 

Except the stone cold memory of a bloody body, broken, torn, missing pieces, pale and motionless. Dead. Gone. Irreplaceable. 

He didn’t think about it much. Instead, he saw the arms always open for a hug. The body that could withstand both harsh training and carrying his comrades forward when their own strength failed. The shoulders always available to cry on. The smile that could brighten the rainiest day. The freckles that colored his face like stars in the night sky. The laugh that sounded like a mixture of angels and music. Charming thoughts. Happy thoughts. Beloved thoughts. 

It was those memories, those moments that had kindled the fire. They were the spark in his heart, in his brain, on his lips that spurred him forward to say those simple words he never thought he’d mean. He never believed it was true that you could need someone so completely until he saw the heart behind those soft, brown eyes five years ago. Love didn’t exist until Marco Bodt walked into his life. 

But Marco Bodt didn’t stay in his life for nearly long enough. It was like he was meant to tempt Jean with the idea that he was capable of love, of being loved, and then disappear before Jean could do anything about it. Like he was some sort of angel meant to help him, save him, but not stay with him. And that’s the part that hurt the worst: Marco hadn’t been around long enough to hear the phrase burning Jean’s heart to pieces. 

Two years later, and the feeling hadn’t gone away. Marco was still irreplaceable, still beloved, still dead. And Jean’s heart beat for him everyday with the one regret he’d carry with him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t the same to tell the wind what you wanted to tell the one person who’d made you believe that love was real, who cared about every piece of who, who made you want to never be anywhere but by their side for the rest of your life. Till death do you part. Jean’s whole being stung with those three words. 

“I love you.”


	7. Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A worried Marco watches over a sick Jean trying to watch over his pride, and failing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt Vigil and Hand to Hold. I mixed the two together and this happened. This one got away from me, more words than I expected at the outset. But I really hope you enjoy it!

Marco could’ve cried, he felt so damn helpless as he pulled Jean’s shivering body closer to his. Here they were, on an overnight expedition in the mountains in January, and of course Jean just had to come down with the worst cold in his life. Thankfully they were paired with Reiner and Bertholdt, who were more than competent to handle the situation, and had been nice enough to switch night guard shifts with Marco so he could watch over their invalid. 

As it was, Marco was convinced there was nothing he could do to solve the situation. No matter what he did, and despite the fever that seemed to just keep climbing, he couldn’t get Jean to stop shivering. They were currently cuddled together inside Marco’s sleeping bag, with Jean and Reiner’s sleep bags piled on top of them (the other two had taken Bertholdt’s sleeping bag with them outside, otherwise Reiner probably would’ve thrown that on top of them too), and the fair-haired boy was still whimpering and trembling as if he were still outside. Nothing seemed to be helping, and Marco was slowly growing more and more desperate. There was sweat running down his back from the stifling heat of the sleeping bag (and the feverish heat generator curling slim his fingers in the brunette’s shirt) and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.

But he had to hold out. For Jean. Memories of just hours ago played in his mind. 

“No,” Marco shook his head as Jean shut the door to the tent and came to sit next to Marco on the steps. The brunette shook his head and pointed at the door. “Go back inside.”

“You aren’t my mother, Marco,” Jean replied, stifling a thick cough into his sleeve. 

Marco frowned. “You sound worse.” 

“I’m fine,” Jean croaked back, rubbing at his throat. In the wintry evening light, his skin looked a more sickly shade of pale than before, accentuating the stains of shadow underneath his eyes and the flushes of red on his cheeks and nose. The brunette’s frown deepened. Leave it to Jean to get sick right before an expedition and not give a damn how much it stresses me out, he thought to himself.

“Well don’t blame me when you end up with pneumonia,” Marco remarked in a chastising tone. 

“I won’t,” Jean responded shortly, stifling a sneeze in his sleeve. Marco bit his lip as he watched the fair-haired boy pull his knees up to his chest. Jean had hardly been outside five minutes, and he was already shaking from the cold. 

“Go back inside,” Marco prompted, gentler this time as he rubbed his hand up Jean’s arm to generate a little more heat for him. “I’m sure Reiner will switch places with you. Or Bertholdt. Get Bertholdt; he’s always warm.” 

Jean shook his head, sniffling. “No. I don’t want to bother them.”

Marco clicked his tongue. “Jean, it wouldn’t bother them at all. You’re sick. The last place you should be is on night guard.”

“I’m not…”

“If you tell me you’re not sick I’m not speaking to you for a month.”

“Marco, you wouldn’t,” Jean gasped, staring up at the brunette with terrified, fever-bright eyes. 

The brunette chuckled. “I’m kidding,” he said. Jean continued to stare at him. “Sort of.” One of Jean’s light eyebrows arched up. “My point is you shouldn’t be out here all night.”

“Marco, I’m fifteen. I can handle a little cold weather,” Jean replied in a less argumentative voice. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.” 

“Um-hm,” Marco remarked as he watched his companion continue to shiver. “Come here, macho man,” he said as he wrapped his arm around Jean’s slim shoulders and pulled him close to his side. “You’re shaking like a leaf.” The fair-haired boy was much warmer than Marco had expected. That wasn’t good. 

“An awesome leaf,” Jean said in a weak defense.

“Sure, an awesome leaf,” Marco nodded, trying to think of what to do. It was clear Jean couldn’t stay outside much longer, his fever was too high for him to be out in the cold all night… or would that be a good thing? Marco couldn’t remember. And he certainly couldn’t think of anything when Jean laid his head on his shoulder. 

“This is all Jaeger’s fault,” the fair-haired boy said in a voice reminiscent of a whine. 

“Nope. Can’t blame him this time,” Marco shook his head. “This one’s all on you, buddy.”

“Can’t we just blame Eren?” Jean asked, staring upwards at Marco. “Please?”

“Would it make you feel better?” Marco asked in response.

“Yes,” Jean answered. 

“Then fine.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

Jean snuggled closer to Marco. The freckled boy rested his head on top of Jean’s and began to run his hand up and down the arm that wasn’t smashed against his body. 

“It’s so cold,” Jean whispered. 

“Um-hm,” Marco replied, pulling him a little closer despite the heat generating from the other’s body. “Why don’t you try to sleep, Jean?”

“Cause then you’d be lonely,” the fair-haired boy answered, sleep already heavy in his voice. 

“I’ll be fine. Sleep,” Marco insisted. 

“Okay.”

Jean turned suddenly in his sleep, a raspy breath catching in his throat and triggering a coughing fit that woke him up. Marco quickly pushed away the layers of blankets and helped the fair-haired boy sit up, rubbing circles in his back to help him regain his breath. There were tears in Jean’s eyes when he’d finally regained his breath.

“Jean?” Marco asked softly. The hazel eyes that met his were glazed with sleep and fever, and clouded with pain. Marco felt his heart break. 

“Marco,” Jean croaked in reply. “Can you make it stop?” he asked in a voice so quiet, Marco felt tears prick the back of his eyes. He ran a hand soothingly through Jean’s sweaty hair and nodded. 

“I’ll do my best,” he replied. 

“You always do,” Jean whispered. “You always make me feel better.”

“That’s right, I will,” Marco replied, pulling Jean close so the boy’s head fell against his shoulder. “I will always be here for you.”

“I love you, Marco.” 

The freckled boy paused, his breath catching as Jean clumsily twined shaking fingers around Marco’s hand. 

“And I mean it.” 

Not two moments later, Jean was unconscious again, slumped against Marco’s shoulder, their hands still intertwined. Experimentally, Marco tried to wiggle his fingers away, but Jean grunted in his sleep and squeezed harder, immobilizing Marco’s hand in his. The freckled boy smiled, squeezing back to let the boy know he wasn’t going anywhere. 

The brunette couldn’t get his heart to stop fluttering. Another moment from that night ran before his eyes. 

Marco knew he couldn’t let Jean stay out there much longer. But the risk of him waking up was too high right now, so he’d have to worry about that later and focus on making him comfortable now. In a spur of the moment decision, the brunette scooped up a handful of snow from the ground and held it against the fair-haired boy’s forehead. Jean shivered harder, squirming in his sleep to escape the cold. 

“Shh, calm down. It’s okay,” Marco cooed softly. “I know it’s cold, I know.”

“You should take him inside.” Marco jumped at the voice, turned around to see Reiner watching him with a soft smile. “Bertl and I tried to stop him from coming out here in the first place, but you know Jean can’t stand missing a moment alone with you.”

In another spur of the moment decision, Marco pressed a soft kiss to Jean’s forehead. “I love you too,” he whispered against the boy’s hot skin, perfectly aware that he couldn’t hear him. “And I’ll mean that till the day I die.” 

They stayed that way, Marco holding Jean’s hand as he watched him sleep, until the sun started peeking through the clouds and Reiner came in to say it was time to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed these little one-shots! I've had a real fun time writing them! Have a wonderful day!

**Author's Note:**

> Check back later for more updates; as they appear on tumblr, they'll appear on here! Thank you so much for reading!


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